Chapter Eighty-Four: Finding Stability Amid Chaos

At this moment, Hua Wenkai held the memorial in both hands and, for the first time, found himself unable to utter a single word.

In his heart, he kept turning over every possible outcome.

“Feng Xunqin clearly brought back this information. Yuwen Qi arranged for Jiang Xixuan to be settled in Qingzhou... They knew I would send men, so they laid an ambush in advance and waited for my people to arrive.”

Once he had grasped this, anger began to rise within Hua Wenkai. “What a move, luring the serpent from its den. Not only did it prevent me from finding any fault, it even lets them strike back. I truly underestimated you, Yang Tingyu, Yuwen Qi. I always thought those two were Su Qing’s dogs—never expected them to become wolves.”

At that moment, Qin Chaoyang, under Du Chengxiang’s suppression of inner force, struggled to his feet with one hand braced on the desk, and fixed Hua Wenkai with a wrathful stare.

“Have you forgotten how you once swore to me? This time I can temporarily tolerate the remnants of Su Qing, but if within five years you still cannot break them apart, then you may experience the prison of memorials yourself.”

Hua Wenkai immediately replied, “Your servant will spare no effort to win over the Hua family and help Your Majesty eliminate this northern threat.”

“I have heard such words from you more than once. I want this scourge eradicated within five years,” Qin Chaoyang said with finality.

Hua Wenkai struck his head against the ground in a deep kowtow. The force of it made even the iron-cast floor tremble faintly. “Within five years, this servant will have Yang Tingyu and the other two reduced to dust and ashes. Their remaining followers will be fully absorbed and placed at Your Majesty’s disposal!”

“Go. The eight hundred thousand taels of military pay withheld from the Northwestern Army over these years will be deducted year by year from the Southwestern Army instead. As for now...”

Qin Chaoyang glanced at Du Chengxiang. The latter instantly understood the emperor’s meaning and hurried forward, bending low. “Does Your Majesty intend to issue an edict ordering the Ministry of Revenue to release silver?”

“Mm.” Qin Chaoyang nodded, then looked to Hua Wenkai. “In a moment, take my imperial edict to the Ministry of Revenue. If those old fellows show any hesitation, you may add one more line.”

Hua Wenkai raised his head and looked straight at the emperor. Only then did Qin Chaoyang say, “Do not force me to reach into my own purse.”

“Also, suspend for now the Ministry of Works’ construction of the imperial mausoleums. Resume it after the war is over. As for those people in the Ministry of Rites, each and every one of them is wealthy; we cannot let the Ministry of Revenue take all of it. Make proper arrangements and weigh the matter carefully.”

Having said this, Qin Chaoyang slowly sat down, closed his eyes, and said, “Du Chengxiang, draft the edict.”

Du Chengxiang bowed and answered, then took up his brush to draft the imperial decree. Before half a cup of tea had passed, it was finished and respectfully presented to Qin Chaoyang.

Qin Chaoyang had no desire to read it. He waved a hand and said, “I trust you to handle things. Let him affix the seal.”

Du Chengxiang picked up the jade seal, stamped the edict, then rolled it up and placed it horizontally before Hua Wenkai.

“Commander, you must keep this safe.” Du Chengxiang gave him a look heavy with meaning.

Hua Wenkai lowered his head and accepted the edict respectfully. He understood perfectly well that this was Du Chengxiang’s warning to him. The emperor placed immense importance on whether the Hua family could be brought over. He himself had to spare no effort to secure it. With that, and with the talent the Southwestern Army had cultivated over the years, the destruction of Yang Tingyu and the others would not affect the empire.

It was precisely because of concern that directly dismissing them might provoke mutiny that they had adopted a strategy of gradual erosion. Yet they never imagined these people would actually invite wolves into the house.

Now, with no way for the court to send reinforcements from the southwest to the north, they could only set aside their pride and send Yang Tingyu and the others to suppress the unrest.

As Hua Wenkai slowly withdrew from the Hall of Nurtured Harmony with the imperial edict in hand, he had not gone far when he sensed someone walking behind him.

The next instant, Hua Wenkai seemed to notice that the person behind him was about to speak. He immediately raised a hand to stop him, while sending a message through inner force: “No need to say anything. I know that letter was seized from you by Du Chengxiang. With your brain, you would not have gambled your life on it.”

The person was none other than Feng Xunqin, with a five-foot-long qin slung across his back. A lock of long hair at his brow drifted in the breeze, and his plain blue robe seemed to embody the very idea of unrestrained ease.

After hearing Hua Wenkai’s voice transmitted by inner force, he remained silent and followed beside him.

Upon learning the news, he had immediately gone to find Hua Wenkai. Hearing that Hua was meeting the emperor in the Hall of Nurtured Harmony, Feng Xunqin waited in a concealed place outside the hall for him to emerge.

But not long after, he saw Du Chengxiang leave the hall in haste. Just as he was confused by this, Du Chengxiang’s figure abruptly vanished from view.

At the same time, a dense sense of danger swept over him. Du Chengxiang was standing behind him.

The two of them stood on a rooftop not far from the Hall of Nurtured Harmony, staring at one another. The result afterward was, of course, self-evident: Du Chengxiang delivered Feng Xunqin’s secret memorial to the emperor, and Hua Wenkai was then severely reprimanded.

As Hua Wenkai walked toward the west gate of Chang’an, he kept calculating in his mind.

“Who knows what that old fox Du Chengxiang is thinking. At times he helps me, and at times he seems to wish me dead. For now, I still need this old fellow to do things for me. Without his cooperation in the palace, my strength will be greatly diminished. I can only endure him for a while.”

Inside the Hall of Nurtured Harmony:

“Your Majesty, Hua Wenkai is like a wolf that cannot be tamed. This servant fears he may...”

“Do you know why I let him offend so many people in court?”

“This servant is dull and cannot fathom Your Majesty’s deeper intent.”

“This way, I bind him tightly in my hands. If one day he wishes to act entirely on his own, he must first consider whether he can bear the combined assault of so many pillars of the dynasty.” As he spoke, Qin Chaoyang looked toward Du Chengxiang and gave him a reassuring glance. “His current power is far from what you imagine. In the palace, without your help, it is only a matter of time before he is left in a difficult position. Put your heart at ease—tomorrow Hua Wenkai will send men to deliver silver to you.”

At this, Du Chengxiang was so frightened that he immediately dropped to his knees. “This old servant would never dare harbor any thought of forming cliques and pursuing private interests! For so many years, whoever Your Majesty told this servant to bite, this servant bit. I have never dared so much as overstep by the slightest bit!”

A timely warning was necessary; too much probing would only have the opposite effect. Qin Chaoyang understood this well.

So he took two steps forward, looking down at the terrified Du Chengxiang, and smiled softly. “When did I ever say you were forming cliques for private gain? I only meant to remind you. I still find Hua Wenkai quite useful for now. It is not improper for you to cooperate with him on certain matters.”

Seeing that Du Chengxiang was still kneeling where he was, Qin Chaoyang continued, “Are you angry with me?”

Hearing this, Du Chengxiang hurriedly looked up to explain. “This servant would never dare!”

“Then why are you still not getting up? Do you want me to help you rise myself?” Qin Chaoyang asked, lowering his gaze.

“I will get up at once!” Only then did Du Chengxiang seem to receive a great pardon. He scrambled to his feet, dusted off the dirt from his clothes, and with one hand supported Qin Chaoyang’s right arm while with the other he circulated his inner force to dispel the hidden injury caused by the emperor’s agitation.

Qin Chaoyang sat back in the dragon throne and shook his head. “This old body is no longer what it once was.”

“Your Majesty’s dragon body is sound and vigorous, your life span equal to Heaven’s. So long as you take medicine regularly according to the imperial physicians’ prescription, the injuries within you will surely be resolved,” Du Chengxiang said anxiously.

“Equal to Heaven’s life span...” Qin Chaoyang murmured, then gave a derisive laugh. “Only words fit to deceive ghosts. If one truly could make the First Emperor immortal, would the Seven Kingdoms still exist now?”

“Uh...”

Seeing Du Chengxiang unable to answer, Qin Chaoyang waved a hand. “You may withdraw first. I wish to be alone for a while. These memorials are not yet finished.”

Du Chengxiang had originally wanted to urge Qin Chaoyang not to overwork himself, but the words died before they could leave his mouth. He could only lower his head and say, “Yes.”

Watching Du Chengxiang walk farther and farther away, Qin Chaoyang leaned back against the dragon throne and tipped his head up toward the vault above, sinking into deep thought.

“The northern border army cannot be taken down within five years. The Hua family has long enjoyed the great favor of the Wei dynasty, so that little fellow may not necessarily act as Hua Wenkai wishes.

“The Six Doors will certainly be watching closely as well. Hua Wenkai is in disarray; it seems he is bound to suffer a heavy defeat this time. I need to think of a way to give him a way down from the stage. A blade must be honed properly—if it is sharpened too much, it becomes awkward to use.”

The dark night.

A man knelt on one knee, doing something unknown. His left hand pinned down an object while his right held a dagger, his manner cautious as though he were carving something. Yet the sound of the blade slicing through flesh made one’s skin crawl with gooseflesh.

“Ha! Finally finished cutting it.”

Su Bo lifted a thin, leathery object and said with some excitement, “I’ve killed four or five barbarians over the past two days, but I still never managed to get a suitable human-face mask. This time, at last, I cut one that’s just the right thickness.”

Quickly burying the corpse, he carried the human skin into a nearby ruined room. After lighting an oil lamp, he opened his toolbox and began a long, painstaking task.

Thinking back on the past two days, Su Bo had indeed spent an enormous amount of effort on disguise. Fortunately, the tools needed for it were still on his person, so making a crude facial covering was still possible.

He had discovered that the Mongol Khanate’s forces were large in scale, making it difficult to strike them, so he had instead targeted solitary individuals among the smaller units of the Golden Horde.

But watching others do it was ultimately not as real as doing it oneself. He had tried more than a dozen times and still failed to make a human-skin mask of any real quality.

After repeated failures and step-by-step accumulation of experience, Su Bo finally found the most suitable method and produced a complete skin disguise.

The first ray of dawn fell across the table. Su Bo blinked hard at his dry eyes, his hands threading needle and thread with no sign of hesitation.

“Oh yeah!”

Su Bo even forgot to put down the silver needle in his hand. He simply picked up the skin disguise on the table and laughed, “I finally made the damn thing! Oh ho!”

He had not expected that this time, on a junior officer of the Mongol Khanate, he would complete his first fully independent operation. So excited was he that his hand was pricked and broken by the silver needle.

The weariness of a whole night’s labor surged up like a tide, and Su Bo immediately closed his eyes and collapsed onto a haystack not far away. Yet he did not fall asleep at once, but instead recalled the past few days.

He had noticed that the closer one got to the border, the more enemy troops there were. If he wanted to escape in the guise of an ordinary civilian, it was impossible to guarantee he would not be discovered. He was only a little stronger than an average person, nowhere near strong enough to ignore the enemy army’s blockade.

For the sake of safety, he should still find a way to make a skin disguise.

During these days, Su Bo had also come to terms with things. Back then, it had been the same—without strength, he had been chased everywhere by others. Now he was merely back to the old way of living. Barefoot people were not afraid of those wearing shoes; what had he left to fear?

“I’ve lived too comfortably for too long. It took these many days just to get back to my original state,” Su Bo sighed inwardly with his eyes closed. “No wonder protagonists always have to go out alone to grind monsters and level up. Only when constantly facing danger can a person’s caution and resilience be forged.”

At that thought, a trace of a smile curved his lips. “Looking at it this way, I seem to have something of that satisfying-protagonist vibe after all. It’s a pity my cheat doesn’t seem to have arrived yet.”

Even now, he was still joking with himself.

But if one could not even comfort oneself, then in such loneliness, who else would ever come to do it?

Before half a cup of tea had passed, Su Bo was already in a deep sleep.